


Completion

by WithCadence



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5188946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithCadence/pseuds/WithCadence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the escape, Will and Hannibal stop overnight at a motel on their way to the final confrontation with Dolarhyde.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Completion

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during The Wrath of the Lamb, after Hannibal's escape, but before their fight with Dolarhyde. No idea how far apart the two locations of those events are, but let's just pretend they're more than a day's drive for the sake of the story, shall we?

Hannibal waited outside. It had been a long time, and most public attention had turned to Dolarhyde, but still. His face was a distinct one, his crimes at the forefront of every corner of the media for a long time. It wasn’t worth the risk.

“You’ll be in room 14, take a right and it’s the last one.” Too cheerful. The woman slid a key attached to a frayed leather square with the motel’s peeling logo across the counter, along with a mildly wrinkled ‘do not disturb/please come in’ sign for the doorknob.

Will picked them up. Did not bother with the trivialities of eye contact or polite smiles. “Thank you.” Instead he quickly swept the room, looking for any indications of the type of security at this motel. He saw no door to an office, no keys, no extra coat or workstation. No cameras. Slightly odd, for a motel in the middle of nowhere, but at the same time, completely commonplace for a motel in the middle of nowhere. He turned on his heel and walked out before the receptionist could finish telling him about where to find the ice machine.

He half expected his stomach to drop, or his hands to twitch, or his mouth to dry, when he left the office and fixed his eyes on Hannibal, sat completely still, face forward, in the drivers seat of the car at the far end of the lot. He should, he thought, be fighting the urge to flee. Swallowing fear, ignoring the lump in his throat. But, nothing. Will was calm. He breathed easier out here. Cold air in his lungs like water.

He knocked on the window of the car. Hannibal turned. Will said nothing, jerked his head towards their room on the far end of the motel. Hannibal rolled down the window.

“All clear?”

Will nodded. “Pop the trunk.” He walked around to the back, grabbed the small duffel bag he had brought with. Used the back of his coat sleeve to slam the trunk shut again. He fished a small container of wipes out of the bag, tossed them through the open window and onto the passenger seat next to Hannibal.

“Wipe the car down. We’ll take a different one in the morning.” Glanced towards their room. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.” He nodded once, turned, and left. Hannibal, unmoving, watched him walk away only for a moment or two before taking the wipes.

Will breathed. Didn’t notice he had been holding his breath until halfway to the room. Tried to focus on the cool air on his face, not the bitter taste under his tongue, in the back of his throat. He was simultaneously surprised and not, at how his fingers did not tremble as he unlocked the door, hung up the 'do not disturb' sign, at how calm he was, and had been all day. How at ease he felt. He sat down on the bed, elbows on knees, head in hands.

Will was never one for cold showers but he found himself turning the knob from hot back to cold while he stood in the shower, waiting for it to heat up. The water pounded into his back, tiny bullets. Maybe the numbness of the water would shock him back into his normal state. Stop feeling like things were falling into place. Start feeling apprehensive, doubtful. How he should, by all logic, be feeling. The water hurt his face. He focused on the way it pierced his skin, the goosebumps along his shoulders, rather than the fact that this calmness was his normal state. He heard Hannibal enter the room. Closed his eyes. Began to ignore his mind’s attempt at filters. Let the feeling of rounding the corner and seeing the finish line wash over him. He turned the knob all the way to the left and let the scalding water sear his shoulders for a few seconds before exiting the shower.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, used another to half-heartedly dry his hair. Left the bathroom, shower running behind him. Hannibal looked up at him as he exited. Will stood, next to the open bathroom door, gesturing inside, at the water he had left on, scalding, for Hannibal. Without a word, Hannibal stood up, silently strode into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Will’s motions felt robotic. Not as if he weren’t in control, but as if he could sit back. Let his body do the work while his mind was otherwise preoccupied. He neatly folded his old clothes and grabbed a new outfit out of his bag. His hair, still damp, clung to his ears, the side of his face. Dripped onto his shoulders. He ran a towel through it once more. Listened, intently, for the squeak of the shower knob, but did not hear it. Thought for a moment. Knew they had spoken about leaving as little of a trail as possible, just in case, despite the inevitability of their situation. Decided to go to the small store they had passed about a mile back anyway.

Will drummed his fingers on the counter as the cashier held up his bills to the fluorescent lights that lined the ceiling of the small convenience store. Squinting just slightly in the brightness. Ignored the monitor hanging from the ceiling in the corner of his eye, projecting a mirror image of himself standing at the counter. The inevitability was beginning, just now, to sink in. Footage of him at a convenience store buying scotch and wine was the least of his worries. If he had worries at all.

He found Hannibal in the motel room, sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to dry his hair on a small hand towel. Shirt stuck to his back, drenched in water. The mild humidity of the room pierced by a cool breeze. Hannibal had cracked a window, positioned himself in front of it.

“My words fail me.” Hannibal smiled to himself. “I can’t seem to think of a way to express how much I’ve missed the breeze without sounding incredibly clichéd.”

“I –“ Will put down the two bagged bottles of liquor on the small counter next to the door. “Sorry, I didn’t realize there were so few towels. I would have left you one.”

“That’s quite alright. It’s only water.”

Will walked to the other side of the bed, began digging through his duffel bag. Tossed aside a toothbrush and a glasses case. “Here.” He pulled out a sweater, a jacket, a pair of pants. Held them out to Hannibal, who eyed the tossed aside contents, then the clothes, before taking them.

“I’m touched, Will.” His tone was almost mocking. Almost.

Will’s less so. The words came out more flat than intended. “What, that I brought you clothes?”

“That you packed at all.” Hannibal stood. “You must have had faith in me.”

“Yeah, well, call it what you want.” Will sat. Turned away. Stared intently at a spot on the wall. Hannibal changed quickly and quietly, using his former outfit to dry himself further before folding it and placing it on the bedside table.

“There’s a car,” Will began. “Parked off to the side of the convenience store. Looked like it had been there a while.” He paused. “It’s not old, I should be able to get it running. If we get to it before sunrise, no one will be out there.” He looked over his shoulder and saw Hannibal turned away from him as well, bent over the small counter by the door.

“Sounds like a plan.” Hannibal turned, a small glass of scotch in each hand. He extended one to Will, who took it, silently. Held it up to his face and inhaled. Not bad for convenience store liquor. He parted his lips and tilted the glass. Closed his eyes and felt his throat burn, his chest grow warm. Hannibal did the same, then held up the glass to the light, turned it around in his fingers.

“It seems I can’t think of a way to express my feelings about _any_ of the things I’ve missed without sounding clichéd.” He raised an eyebrow in thought as if he were amused at himself. “During my confinement, I was only allowed certain types of wine.” He spoke of his time there as if it were a distant memory. As if he knew he would never to go back.

“There’s wine, too.” Will replied, latching onto the unimportant part of Hannibal’s sentence.

“I saw. An excellent choice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Every word seemed to spit itself out of Will’s mouth then fall dead. Flat. Monotonous. He was playing it close to his chest. He didn’t know what “it” was.

A brief instant of comfortable silence grabbed the room and held it lightly in its fingers. Will drummed his fingers against the glass.

“You haven’t been awfully talkative today, Will.” Hannibal spoke, loud words, quiet voice. Will hated how pleasant his name sounded on Hannibal’s tongue.

“I haven’t.” Will nodded in agreement. “Not… intentionally. There’s a lot to think about. A lot to process.”

“You have always been quick to process.”

“Not all the time.” Will glanced at Hannibal. _Not with you._

“You’re thinking about what you’re going to do.” Hannibal shifted. “Your plan. How this –“ He gestured to the room around them “-might have been your plan all along, but you’ve only now begun to realize it.”

Will felt a smile tugging at the muscles in his cheeks. “I don’t think you give me enough credit.”

Hannibal did not fight his own smile. “You mean to imply that this was your conscious plan all along, then. That everything is going swimmingly.” His tone changed, very slight, imperceptible to most except Will. “That you are completely in control.” A pause. “Do you feel in control, Will?”

Will nodded. “Yes.” His voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe more so than ever.” He cracked his knuckles. ”I’m not just… going through the motions anymore.”

A moment’s silence. Then, “Glad to hear it.” Hannibal stood. Poured himself more scotch. Took Will’s glass and poured him more as well. Pressed the glass gently back into Will’s hand. “Tell men, then.” He sat once more. “When the dragon comes for us, rather, for me, what will you do?”

Will stared into his glass. Swirled it around.

“Would you let him kill me?”

Will felt his fingers grip his drink tighter. The cogs in his brain silenced by the ringing in his ears. He looked at Hannibal, held his gaze.

“I don’t know.”

It was exactly what Hannibal expected, and wanted to hear. Will could tell by the expression that washed over his face. He wanted to see what Will would do. No more, no less.

Will tossed back his second scotch, again closed his eyes and tried to focus on the warmth spreading through his chest.

He hated the way he felt. Or rather, he hated that he couldn’t identify the way he felt. The entire world stretched for only a few miles in every direction. The convenience store. The field behind the motel. The stretch of highway that awaited them come morning. Past that, the universe came to a halt. Nothingness. Everything that was anything existed only in this motel room. Jack, Molly, Alana, distant memories. Fictional characters in a book he read many years ago. Will felt as though, finally, everything fit. Everything was falling into place. A puzzle, seconds away from completion. He was almost – _almost_ – whole.

Killing Hannibal or killing _with_ him. Will knew he would not consciously make the choice. He would surrender himself to the moment. There was no choice in that.

The inevitability was calming. Sedating. Soon he would be whole.

He felt Hannibal’s eyes on him, turned to meet his gaze. The warmth in his chest from the scotch unsubsiding.

“Whatever the outcome,” Hannibal raised his still unfinished drink. “I am glad we are here tonight. Together.”

Will’s gaze softened. His words dripping with unfamiliar truth. “Me too.”

Both undressed without a word. An offer by either to sleep elsewhere would have been foreign, out of place. Pulling the blanket over their shoulders. Breathing slowed. Hannibal reached out and brushed some of Will’s hair out of his eyes. Will stared at him, unblinking, this man who changed him. This man who saw him. This man who loved him. Will never felt more naked in his life, more vulnerable. More safe.

“Goodnight, dear Will.”

“Goodnight Hannibal.”

Will tried not to think about how it wasn’t the inevitability, or the choice, but the man lying next to him that made him whole. Hannibal’s body warmth enveloped him, and he was home. 

They woke in the morning, before dawn, with their foreheads pressed together. Fingers intertwined. Will did not know if it was Hannibal or himself that reached out for the other in the night, if the reaching was conscious or not. It did not matter. They lay like that, in the darkness, awake, staring at one another. Brown melting into gray. Will felt the last minutes of peace ticking away. He felt Hannibal praying for time to stop.

They dressed silently, making as little noise as possible, so as to not disturb the morning. Hannibal fixed Will’s collar. Warm fingers brushing against his neck.

Will placed the key, and a small wad of cash on the doormat in front of their room. Hannibal closed the door gently behind them. The air was cold, harsher than the previous night. An unwelcome reminder that the rest of the world trudged on, that they would soon join it.

“Are you ready, Will?”

Will grimaced against the day. “No.” He turned. “Are you?”

Hannibal met Will’s gaze with a gentle smile. “No.”

Will nodded. Exhaled shakily. Set off towards inevitability.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing with this idea in my head for a few days, and out of the blue today pulled up a word document, started typing, and didn't stop until I was done. I knew if I tried to plan it out too much I'd never get it done. I'm posting this without doing a lot of re-reading and editing as well, because, again, if I did that too much, I'd never post it. Hope there aren't too many logistical errors, but if there are, oh well.


End file.
